21 June 1721 – Thousand Oaks Plantation

Near Charles Town, South Carolina

They spent the night in Charles Town and reached the plantation the next day. Anne stayed in bed for a week, regaining her strength.

As time passed, she got stronger: walking, riding, swearing and regaining her defiance, although she didn’t understand why this place brought out the worst in her. One day, her father called her into his study.

“Anne, I see you’re back in good health.” Anne nodded.

 “It’s time for you to move on. I have found a husband suitable to me and, I think, to you as well. His name is Joseph Burleigh and he has agreed to marry you even though I told him you can be a foul beast at times.”

“Well, we’ll be starting off on the right foot at least. Thank you, Father,” Anne growled.

“We’re heading to Charles Town tomorrow. You’ll be married and aboard a ship to Virginia. I’ve bought you a plantation. Not a big one but one of a moderate size that two people utterly unfamiliar with farming should be able to learn on. And some coin and tobacco notes for things you’ll need.”

Anne stared at him. “We went through this before, Father.”

“I know, Anne, and it didn’t turn out well because you took it into your head to run off with that horrible James Bonny. I’m asking you to try it my way this time.”

“I ran off with the man I loved. He turned out to be a rotter but I couldn’t see that then.” Anne kept her father’s eye even as she knew that Bonny had been a terrible mistake – turning into an informant after the pirate amnesty.

“Yes, my dear, but you have to admit at this point that he was a bit of a disaster. Meanwhile, you let Mr. Buckles, my choice, get away.” She detected a bitter edge in her father’s voice.

Anne kept his gaze. “You’ve a point. Besides I don’t see I have much choice in the matter.”

“No, I’m afraid you don’t. But wouldn’t you agree it’s a much better result than hanging from a gibbet off Jamaica?”

“I can’t argue that.”

“Good, it’s done. Pack and we’ll be off tomorrow.” Her father looked down to the papers on his desk and dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

I still get angry even though I know he wants the best for me. Why is that? Why does this place drive me crazy? Anne left the room.

As she packed the three outfits her father had bought for her with the help of a lady friend who, Anne suspected, would be his wife as soon as she was gone, she realized that the plantation, and her father, represented restrictions and rules. Anne had never been fond of either. Piracy, with its egalitarian society and lack of anything remotely resembling slavery, was more to her liking. He’s not a heartless bastard as I’ve so often thought. He’s a father who revels in the rules and I’m his bastard daughter who won’t follow them. He’s probably as frustrated as I am.

At the end of the next day, they found themselves again staring at the ships in the harbor of Charles Town. Her father dropped Anne off at a boarding house. She watched him drive away and immediately went walking through the town. As it was Sunday, there was little foot traffic.

She stopped to look in the window of a jewelry store. A pinchback brooch with an openwork floral spray set with pearls and garnets caught her eye. She looked around but the street was empty but for a couple of drunk sailors staggering on the other side of the street. She backed up to the door and tried the doorknob, but it was locked. As casually as possible, she ducked around the side the building. A window stood slightly open only five feet back from the front. Looking around and seeing no one, Anne tested the window and found it unlatched. She peeked inside and saw the room empty except for a table and displays of jewelry, handbags and other items attractive to ladies. And a chair, right below the window.

Lifting the framed glass, Anne hoisted herself, bottom first, through the opening. Without hesitation, she scooped up the brooch, stowed it in the pocket under her skirt, and moved back to the window, using the chair to get up to the sill. She dropped onto the alley below, shut the window and sauntered back into the street.

When she figured her father would be returning, she went back to the boarding house. In less than five minutes, there was a knock on her door.

“Yes?” she called out.

“Anne, it’s Father. With Joseph.”

Anne had dreaded this moment. Joseph Burleigh, her husband to be, a person she had never laid eyes on, waited on the other side of the door.

Standing beside her father was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. Tall with deep blue eyes and curly dark hair, his smile lit up his whole face.

“By God, you are more beautiful than your miniature,” he said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

Anne involuntarily shrank back. “Miniature?” she asked.

Joseph reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small painting of Anne. She remembered when it was done. She was about fifteen and left home shortly thereafter.

“He gave it to me the day we met and made our bargain.”

“Bargain?” Anne asked.

“Well, neither of your nor I are in the position for a long courtship, but we can talk about that later. For now let me say, I am most pleased to meet you and most impressed with your beauty.” Joseph bowed.

“Fine. What now?” Anne turned to her father.

“We’ll spend the night. I’ve arranged with a vicar to marry you first thing in the morning and then you sail on the early tide. For now, we go to get some supper at a publick house up the street. Put on your cloak and come with us.”

“That an order?” Anne asked.

“No, my dear, it’s a request. It will give you a chance to get to know Joseph a bit.”

Anne shrugged and put on her cloak.

She came down and found Joseph and her father already at the publick house. “We were just talking about farming. Tobacco. The land you and Joseph are going to is already planted for the season. Joseph is not an experienced planter so I have been giving him some counsel,” her father said.

Anne nodded. She had no intention of learning to farm, so she looked around the dining room. Most of the guests were dressed well but not extravagantly. She saw little jewelry or fancy embroidery work on the women’s attire. Her own clothing, she realized, was probably the nicest in the room.

The men finished discussing the fine points of fertilizer and leaned back, each taking a deep drink from his tankard of beer. “Where’s mine?” Anne asked with some annoyance.

Joseph laughed. “I must apologize, Mistress Cormac. I didn’t think to request a glass for you.” He looked around and waved at the waiter. “Another beer, good sir,” he called out. The waiter nodded and disappeared.

Anne ignored them as she drank her beer. Finally Joseph turned to her, “Mistress …” he began.

Before he could say the name, Anne interrupted him. “If we’re to be married, you must call me ‘Anne.’” She said and then looked away, surprised to find herself blushing.

“Anne. It’s a lovely name. I was just saying that I would hope that with a year’s good crop, we can make improvements to the property. The house is rather small and needs expanding. We will need some more furnishings as well. For now, there is enough in the house to live in.” Joseph reached out as though he would take her hand but Anne pulled it off the table and into her lap before he could reach it.

The waiter brought a third glass. “Thank you. Bring us supper, please. Whatever the cook is making this evening,” her father told the waiter.

Anne continued to watch the diners as the men discussed tobacco farming. That one’s got a full pocket, she thought, looking at a sea captain who furtively patted the bulging pocket of his waistcoat as he ate. But he won’t for long. If I can see it, so can others. On the far side of the room, a couple sat waiting for their food. The woman fingered a knife, weighing it between her fingers. And they may be the ones to relieve him of it.

“Anne?” asked her father. She came out of her reverie and saw that both men were watching her.

Those are the darkest blue eyes I have ever seen, she thought looking back at Joseph. And full o’ mischief they are.

They finished supper and returned to the boarding house. In the lobby, her father said, “Be up at six o’clock, Anne. The marriage will be at seven.” She nodded and her father left for his room.

She and Joseph stared awkwardly at each other. He pointed to a pair of chairs. “Let’s chat a little.”

“Starting tomorrow, it’s just you and me. I wanted to tell you that I am very glad to have you come with me. I haven’t farmed before but I am excited about the chance to start over,” he said as they climbed the stairs.

“Start over?” she echoed. “Start over from what, Joseph Burleigh?”

He laughed. “From living here. And for you, from Jamaica.”

Anne made a mental note to ask more questions when they were on their way north. “Yes,” she said, “we will surely be starting something over.” She turned to face him as they reached her door. “I don’t know what my father has told you about me …” she began, but before she could finish, Joseph held up his hand.

“Enough,” was all he said. Then he smiled. “I know enough,” he said. “And I promise I won’t force myself on you. It would be better if we got to know each other a little before …” he broke off and turned bright red.

They sat in an embarrassed silence for a bit. Finally Joseph asked, “May I walk you to your room?”

She nodded. They walked up the three flights of stairs and she unlocked her door

 “Good night, Anne,” Joseph said. “Truly, I am delighted to be marrying you, temper and all.” Although she detected a twinkle in his blue eyes, Anne could feel his sincerity.

Wish I could say the same, she thought.

“Indeed. I will see you early. Good night…” she hesitated, then added, “Joseph.”

He bowed. “Anne.”

Anne threw herself onto her bed and cried until she couldn’t cry any more. Then she took one of her kerchiefs, blew her nose, wiped her eyes and stood up. “I will make the best of this,” she said loudly to the room. She undressed, climbed into bed, and fell into a deep sleep.